


Grasping at Ashes

by TheDramaticSneeze (orphan_account)



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coma, Dream Sharing, Gen, Illnesses, Major Character Injury, Mental Anguish, Monsters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:45:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheDramaticSneeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An attack on the camp leaves the Fellowship shaken, and their elf injured. But when his wounds prove to be more than skin deep, Legolas soon finds himself a prisoner of his own mind and the task falls on Aragorn and company to set him free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Legolas Thranduilion was an elf.

Elves, like Legolas, were strangely beautiful and beautifully strange creatures. It seemed that in everything they did, they did so with a grace no other creature could ever posess. Their wisdom and skills went unmatched due simply to the endless years of experience they were subjected to with the gift (Or, to some, curse) of immortality. Most had an air of contentment that followed them wherever they went, but such was not true for all, as some took their natural elven gifting as an excuse for arrogance. This particular elf happened to have the former, much to the relief of his traveling companions.

Legolas Thranduilion, the elf, was a proud member of the Fellowship of the Ring.

Yes, the Mirkwood prince could proudly say he was included amongst the defenders of Mr. Frodo Baggins and the precious cargo he carried. The trip thusfar had been long, eventful, and he'd loved every minute of it. At that time, the party had decided to rest for the evening, setting themselves in the narrow area between two tall cliffs as a natural defense in the case of an ambush. The elf stood rigid at the outer perimeter of the camp, muscles taut and eyes wandering the darkness for potential threats, as usual. Some (Such as the dwarf.) would say he was paranoid, but his long years as an elf had taught him that one could never be too careful.

Another thing about the elves, and part of the reason he was chosen to come along, were that their senses were considerably sharper than that of most creatures. The sound of a twig being snapped a mile away was as distinct to Legolas as if it were right next to him. His senses of sight and smell posessed similar lengths. This, while being extraordinarily useful, also tended to cause unneccesary stress, and so the prince only spoke on his feelings if he was almost certain it posed a threat.

Legolas Thranduilion, elf and member of the Fellowship, wished that the Fellowship had chosen a different place to camp.

The towering walls of the cliffs on either sides of them were overwhelming, a sense of claustrophobia closing in on the prince whom was unused to being enclosed in a space such as this. The sole source of light in the chasm emitted from the small campfire behind him, the light of which reached just beyond where Legolas had placed himself. He could dimly see the large, dark shadows that crawled along the cliff-face. They did not move threateningly, but he refused to take his eyes off of them.

Legolas Thranduilion, elf and member of the Fellowship, really wished that the Fellowship had chosen a different place to camp.

Aragorn smiled as he listened to the conversation between his companions as they ate. Boromir and the hobbits were currently engrossed in a story Gimli was recalling from one of his many adventures in Moria, not bothering to contain his excitement of their decision to travel to the city. The wizard sat silently by the fire, listening amusedly as Aragorn was.

The ranger looked up from his food, noting the absence of his Elvish friend. His eyes scanned the campsite and found the slight shine of the bow strung on his back in the firelight at the edge of camp. Aragorn rose, slipping silently from the central conversation and venturing toward Legolas' rigid form. Aragorn knew all too well of his friend's aversion to caves and enclosed spaces. As a wood elf, he was out of his element when not in contact with the earth and the trees. Aragorn wanted to offer all the comfort he could upon the following days through Moria.

"Aníral maded?" asked the ranger as he reached Legolas' side. The elf gave a small shake of his head. A person unused to the his mannerisims would have passed off his actions as mere caution, but Aragorn simply knew Legolas too well. "Mani una lle elea?" ('Do you want to eat?','What do you see?')

Legolas shook his head, his pupils unwavering as he tilted his head toward Aragorn. Orange firelight flickered softly on his pale face as he spoke, "Amin naa il sanda, nan' nad no ennas." ('I am unsure, but something's out there.')

Aragorn's mouth formed a thin line, his eyes turning to the darkness to attempt to see what had his normally composed friend uneased.

The fairer-haired of two's pointed ears perked suddenly, his body tensing as he tilted his head to one side. Aragorn instantly held up a silencing hand to the rest of the party, speaking loud and firm in a kingly voice he'd most certainly inherited, "Quiet."

The members froze, seeing Aragorn watching the elf closely and not commenting. They had learned better than to question the heightened senses of their Elvish friend at this point. Despite the knowledge that it was probably futile, each individual also silently tried for themselves to hear what the prince had.

A soft, animalistic gargle sound filled in the dense silence of the crevasse. Legolas' muscles remained coiled, eyes pointed slightly upward as he focused solely on his ears. The elf held out a hand as he crept forward, "Stay here."

Aragorn stepped forward in protest, "If there is danger, you should not be going alone."

Legolas looked briefly back at the human, "Better I take the risk than you, Estel. Besides, my eyes will see more in the dark."

Aragorn sighed, locking eyes with the young elf and hesitating before giving a curt nod. The remaining party all watched intently as their designated scout crept several paces foreword, his nimble Elvish feet barely making a sound as he walked. The hobbits huddled together, forming a subconscious perimeter around Frodo.

The overseeing party turned abruptly at the sound of rocks being loostened from the right wall, hitting the ground quietly nearby. Aragorn eyed the cliffs suspiciously, deeply hating the feeling of unease that ate away at him and the lack of ability to discover what was causing it.

Legolas stiffened at the movement, eyes darting to the single point on the crevasse wall where the rocks seemed to have been shaken from before moving to wander about the rocky black ledge. "Run." ordered the elf suddenly, drawing his bow and backing slowly away while keeping his eyes fixed on the wall.

A hiss emitted from a shadow in the blackness and Legolas whipped an arrow from the sheath on his back, firing at the dark mass faster than their eyes could follow. A loud screech filled the air as a large shadow which Aragorn had not seen before dropped abruptly to the ground. Several agressive wails followed, causing the party to cover their ears against the awful sound. Legolas turned around, urgency swimming through his blue irises. "Make haste!" he ordered, louder, "Run!"

The elf's widely uncharacteristic volume alone was enough to spur them all into movement, except Frodo who seemed to be frozen. The hobbit gasped as Aragorn shoved him hard toward Gandalf who placed Frodo in front of him, urging him forward and away from danger.

There was a terrified cry as something large lept onto Pippin from behind, burying its long, bony head into his tunic at an attempt to reach his flesh. Merry screamed his name in horror before Boromir lept into action and quickly kicked the thing off of him with a steel-clad foot for the rest of the party to see as it regained its footing.

The beast was fairly small compared to their usuals, about the size of a large dog, and carried the distinct look of a parasitic insect. Its mouth alone made up for about a third of its body, a set of terrifyingly sharp teeth nestled inside its long, narrow jaws. It's thick body sprouted three skinny legs on each side, along with a set of arms similar to that of a praying mantis. It was faded baige in color, probably meant for camoflauge, with hints of purple where the skin was too thin to conceal the color of it's insides. The creature's movements were fast and jerking, almost too much so for the naked eye to follow.

Arrow after arrow was released as more of the creatures began dropping to the ground from the crevasse walls. Each Fellowship member had also taken it upon themselves to unsheath their weapons, as the elf's arrows were currently the only thing holding them back.

Aragorn drove his sword through the skull of a beast, whirling the blade to the side as he withdrew it to strike yet another that lept at him from the side, its bowels spewing onto the floor with a foul splattering sound. The creatures were not hard to kill once an opening came, as their flesh was soft and thin, it was merely getting that opening which was proving difficult. Their movements were quick and abrupt like that of an insect, in one place one second and another the next.

Frodo grunted as he tried valiently to fend off the beasts with his small sword, striking down the creature he battled at present before yet another almost immediately took its place. The hobbit shreiked in surprise as the creature suddenly pounced on him, sending him falling backward with the beast's weight on top of him. Frodo struggled to keep it's jaws away as they so frantically tried to close around his throat.

With an abrupt screech of pain, the creature was forced off of him. Frodo quickly scrambled to his feet to see who his savior had been and found himself staring in disbelief at the elf of the Fellowship, white blades moving in almost a blur as it sliced through the skin and flesh of the beast that had practically incapitated Frodo. It was frightening, almost, to see one of the quietest and most lighthearted creatures he'd ever met battling with such fury.

The hobbit gasped, but could not work his tongue fast enough to shout a warning as yet another one of the creatures dropped to the ground directly behind Legolas. The archer turned at the movement but even his quick Elvish feet could not carry him fast enough. The beast lept to the side and snarled as it slammed into the elf's back with full force, knocking him to the ground and burying its teeth in his his skin. A thick spray of blood spattered onto the horrified face of the hobbit as the beast ripped mercilessly into muscle and flesh.

Aragorn witnessed the attack in alarm and without another thought, drew back and slammed the flat of his sword into the attacking creature's head. It screamed in pain, stumbling off of the elf where Aragorn then ran his blade through its skull. He bent low, grasping Legolas' arm and pulling his wounded form up quickly off the stone ground. The prince numbly snatched his dropped bow with bloodied fingers and willed his feet not to stumble, holding to Aragorn for guidance.

"Go!" beckoned Gandalf urgently, batting a creature away with his staff, "Get out of the chasm, I shall follow close behind!"

Aragorn looked hesitant at the idea of leaving the wizard behind, but was spurred into movement by a strangled cry of pain emitting from the prince he supported before said-prince's knees buckled beneath him. Aragorn swiftly scooped a hand beneath the elf's slender legs and lifted him into his arms which Legolas, had he been fully coherent, would have protested strongly about.

There was a loud whooshing sound behind him, followed by a fierce symphony of pained screeching that caused Aragorn to wince at the sudden assault on his ears. Legolas jerked at the sound, his features contorting in pain and Aragorn knew it was the gift of enhanced Elvish hearing backfiring on him. The ranger did not bother to look behind him to see what kind of sorcery the wizard had unleashed on the creatures, all he knew was that the chasm was now silent besides their own footsteps and harsh breathing.

Aragorn sighed in relief as the cliffs on either side of them ended abruptly, bringing them all to a stop. The hobbits heaved for breath, still shaken from the sudden attack.

Frodo looked up worriedly, "Gandalf?"

At that moment the wizard strode out of the chasm, staff glowing dimly to illuminate his path.

Pippin looked up from the ground, curiosity overriding his attempt to catch his breath, "What did you do?"

The wizard shook his head, "They are gone, we needn't worry about it anymore." Gandalf's words hald no room for question. "I am afraid it is too open here for us to rest, let us venture into the forest and set up a new camp there."

Aragorn shifted the elf's deadweight in his arms, hefting him over his shoulder in fear that his sharp gauntlet's might further aggrivate the wound on his back. "I must ensure Legolas' wounds are not too severe. It will not take me long."

Frodo tensed at this, recalling the events that had caused the archer's injury. Blue eyes that shone something like shock, or perhaps guilt, turned slowly to study Sam's lips moving incoherently. The hobbit shook his head slightly in realization that the gardner was speaking to him.

"Are you alright, Mr. Frodo? You look rather pale..." observed the gardner, "And you have blood on your face!"

Frodo numbly reached a hand to his cheek, pulling it away to find his fingertips sticky with blood that he immediately knew was not his own. He shakily rubbed the sleeve of his tunic on his face, determined to clean himself of the elf's blood which he knew was spilled only to spare him injury. He shook his head to calm the Gardner, "I am alright, the blood is not mine." Sam relaxed, though the suspicious glint in his eyes faltered only slightly.

"Come, hobbits." called Gandalf, "We will pause for a respite when we reach the treeline. We are too vulnerable here."

As they trod toward the forest, the elf over Aragorn's shoulder began to stir, emitting a soft groan. His speech was sluggish as he gathered his bearings, "Estel... Why it is I can see naught but your backside?"

The ranger smirked, "I know I am desirable, mellon-nîn, but after all this time I must say I was unaware of your true feelings."

Legolas snorted, "Only in your dreams, Estel." Aragorn chuckled softly as he ajusted his hold on the Elf, who squirmed in his arms, "I'd appreciate if I could return to my feet now, please."

Aragorn complied, gently setting the elf down, but not relinquishing his hold on Legolas' shoulder in fear he would stumble. The archer waved him off and took a few shuddering steps before his pace evened out to only a slight limp. Aragorn winced as he caught a glimpse of the wound beneath his shredded tunic as he walked ahead, noticing how delicately the elf's steps were taken.

Upon reaching the treeline, Aragorn immediately ordered the prince to sit beneath the dim light of Gandalf's staff and demanded he remove his tunic. Legolas grudgingly complied, wincing as he peeled the fabric which had mingled with blood that had dried and stuck to his skin. Aragorn sucked in a breath as the tunic was removed and he caught the full sight of the injury.

The wound consisted of several horrid-looking gashes that streaked across his back, slicing right into the muscle and Aragorn winced as he saw small glints of white where his spine was exposed. The worst part of the cuts gaped on his left shoulder blade and got narrower and shallower as they ran down his back, halting just above his right hip. The cuts were deep and the skin around the long welts was white and swollen, angry red lines branching out and extending over the untouched skin.

"How do you feel?" inquired Aragorn, not wanting to alert Legolas to the extent of his injury and worry the archer.

Legolas grimaced and struggled to keep his voice steady. "I feel fine.". Aragorn rolled his eyes and stole another glance at the wound as the elf arched slightly in pain.

Aragorn chuckled, but the laugh held little humor. "You were never a good liar."

Legolas snorted weakly, "'m better then you." The elf emitted labored breath as Aragorn pressed a cloth to the wound, "Truthfully, 's already starting to numb."

Aragorn nodded hesitantly in acceptance of the answer. "There was an urgency in your eyes back there I had not seen in a long time," the Ranger lowered his voice, "Tell me, what of those creatures disturbed you so much?"

Legolas remained silent for a moment, as if unsure whether to open his heart to the ranger, though he had done it before. It was simply against his nature to discuss his emotions with others. The elf eventually sighed, however, making his decision. "I was disturbed simply because I had no knowledge of what they were or what they were capable of." Legolas lowered his head, "I was wrong to react in that way."

Aragorn nodded and did not ask for further explaination, for he understood completely. As an immortal, the elf had seen his fair share of creatures in his lifetime. In fact, there were few in existance which he had not come across at some point in his travels. It was an extremely rare occurance when he was faced with something he was not at least slightly familier with, and with lack of knowledge came weakness. Weakness, to Legolas, was not an option.

Aragorn knit his brows together as he examined the parted flesh, "The wound is bleeding less than I'd anticipated." vocalized the Ranger in awe, "I don't think I've ever seen Elvish healing put to work this fast."

Legolas sighed, "Good, we cannot delay merely because I've been-" he grunted quietly as Aragorn began to tightly wrap the wound, "-nipped by a parasite."

Aragorn smiled, "We are lucky this is just a flesh wound, a bit further and there could have been serious damage to your spine. Now, let us venture into the forest and set up camp. Will you be able to walk? I'd say it'll be another three or four leagues before we can stop to set up camp again."

Legolas waved him off, "-m fine, Estel. T'is almost completely numb now. As you said, 's merely a scratch."

Aragorn rolled his eyes as he fastened the bandage around the elf's torso, 'I definately did not say that.' he thought silently.

The journey through the forest was peaceful, much more so than the chasm had been. The trees were plentiful but there was little underbrush to pick through, so their progress was made quickly. Quiet conversation travelled through the company, their topics ranging from stories of their homelands to the best way to roast a duck. Aragorn had even involved himself in a bit of the discussion, but other than that he kept a close eye on their surroundings, knowing their usual lookout would not be at his full capabilities.

They had been traveling for about an hour Aragorn speculated, by the movement of the moon, when a soft whisper made him question if perhaps his ears were faulty or the journey was just beginning to get to him. The Ranger waved it off and and continued to stride forward when the sound was emitted once more, a bit louder and clear to Aragorn's ears.

"Estel..."

The ranger turned, sure that he'd heard correctly this time and his eyes instantly bugged at the sight of the young elf trailing wearily behind the group. One by one, the company turned to find the source of Aragorn's bewilderment, and were each subjected to the same as they took in the sight before them.

Half lidded azure eyes seeped twin tears of blood that painted stark crimson trails on his ashen cheeks. His upper lip was stained red from the liquid which streamed also from his nose. Aragorn could scarcely believe his friend was still standing, had it not been for that, he may have believed the archer dead solely from the paleness of his skin and dark circles beneath his eyes. A drop of blood slithered quickly through his lips as he parted them to speak, his words badly slurred. _"I do not... feelsowell..."_

Aragorn heard the pained words of his friend and watched, dumbfounded, as he swayed dangerously on his feet, gaining his wits just in time to catch Legolas before he toppled completely.

Legolas was vaguely aware of concerned face of the ranger that hovered above him, but he could do nothing to halt the progress of the darkness that tugged on his consciousness. His lips parted as if to speak, then closed as what was left of his strength seeped quickly from his body and he fell limp in Aragorn's arms.

Shadow quickly closed in on his vision and the elf knew no more than darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Legolas could not suppress the wide grin that had spread across his face at the sight of his father's kingdom. Green, golden and beautiful, as it had always been. Almost excessively so. The colors of the forest shone with a vibrancy which astounded him. This, accompanied with the clear and familiar sounds of the forest created an atmosphere of utmost peace and contentment for the prince. The air was particularly dense at the time, which was not unusual for any forest, but the elf could practically feel it weighing his body down. This small onus did little to dampen his spirits, however.

Mirkwood's dark reputation had played little to no part in the forming of his opinion on the forest, except when he was faced with the cause of it, which he'd found occurred rather frequently. However, the creatures that lurked about the trees had been effectively kept at bay by the great warriors and archers of his father's army. In fact, most of the instances that Legolas had come across one of these beasts were on his ventures far outside the perimeter of the main dwelling-place. Nonetheless, he loved his home dearly and bade silent greetings to familiar trees as he trod forward.

The gleeful cries of his kin as they welcomed their prince home warmed his heart as he made his way through the trees. It had been too long since his feet had been set upon the earth here, and he enjoyed the familiarity that was met with each step. Elflings pranced cheerfully about the trees, their laughter light and carefree. Legolas could feel his burdens being lifted off his shoulders at the sights and sounds of his home but with the removal of this weight came a new feeling, something that made him uneasy. In his excitement, this was ignored.

Weaving silently through the trees, he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a small figure leaning against a mossy trunk a few strides away, a crown crafted of fresh white flowers was wound around her small, golden head. The elfling turned at his presence and Legolas' breath hitched as azure eyes met shining green. A smile of pure alleviation immediately spread across her pale, round face.

"Ada!" exclaimed the elfling in excitement. Bare feet made hardly a sound as she sprung to her father and leapt into his arms. Legolas laughed musically as he hugged the tiny being close to his chest, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"Ada, I missed you! I am so glad you are home!" cried the elfling happily, sitting back in her father's arms to look into his eyes. Legolas smiled.

"I missed you too, my heart. So much." the prince smiled as he tucked a stray lock of golden hair behind his daughter's ear. Legolas looked over the young she-elf and furrowed his brows, "By the Valar, have you grown?"

Young eyes brightened, "Yes! Well, I think so. Daer-adar says elves grow very slow. He says I am only of four years to a human! Isn't that silly, ada? Nana tells me I am getting taller every day! I like what Nana says better."

Legolas laughed, "Silly, indeed. Every time I see you you seem to have sprouted another inch!" exclaimed Legolas gleefully, earning a giggle from the smaller elf. "And where is Naneth, dilthen lass nîn?"

The elfling wriggled excitedly out of Legolas' arms, tugging on the sleeve of his tunic as her feet touched the ground, "Come, ada! I will show you!"

It was not a long trek as Legolas was taken in the direction the she-elf supposedly resided in. His heart pounded in anticipation, which he silently mulled at the oddity of. Three-hundred years of marriage and yet the Imladrian could still do these things like that to him. Silently he wondered if he still had the same charms to the she-elf as he once did.

The she-elf turned and her breath hitched as her eyes met Legolas', a smile spreading quickly across her pale face. In two quick strides he was across the room and caught his wife in a deep embrace, locking his lips passionately with hers. The young elfling scrunched her nose at the sight, and occupied herself by playing with the hem of her dress.

The prince and she-elf broke apart for breath, each resting their forehead gently against the other's. "I missed you." spoke the female softly, placing a small hand on his chest, "For a while I feared you would not return."

"My apologies for worrying you, melamin, it was not my intention." replied Legolas.

The she-elf's eyes narrowed playfully, "Are you certain? There are times when I truly believe you trying to scare me to an early ship to Valinor."

The prince laughed softly, "It seems I simply cannot resist myself at times."

"Ti tállbe Orch." (Go kiss an orc)

Legolas smirked, tilting her chin up so his lips brushed hers as he spoke, "I'd rather kiss you." Her breath hitched and his grin widened as he thought to himself, 'Aye, I've still got it.'

"Le melon." she said softly, tilting her head to meet his lips.

A disgusted snort emitted suddenly from above them, drawing both the elves eyes to their daughter whom sat perched atop a branch above them. Musical laughter emitted from both the parents and Legolas did not believe he'd ever found himself more content.

"Make haste, mellon. His highness eagerly awaits you."

It had been too long since he'd set foot in the halls of his father, and Legolas could honestly say it never lost it's initial awe. Though small compared to the royal facilities of men, it was still just as splendid. Besides the point, he felt one could never truly feel comfortable in excessive, roaring halls in which one's footsteps echoed infinitely.

"You've been dearly missed, ion-nin." Thranduil smiled as he pulled away from the embrace with his son, "There had been word that the mission had gone sour and some of our kin would not return. I feared you would be one of them. Thank the Valar this was not so."

"Ada, I assure you, I am alive and well." Legolas smiled, "How fares Mirkwood in my absense?"

"Fate has been in our good fortune as of late, albeit it has been a bit quiet since your departure." Thranduil smiled in jest, "I imagine this will change once you've had your rest."

Legolas gasped in feigned horror, "Could you expect any less of me, adar?"

Thranduil chuckled, "My apologies. You have dutifully filled these trees with sound since your days as an elfling, when the howling of angry nursemaids was a regularity amongst us. Forgive me, ion-nin, for doubting your skill."

The king's eyes turned suddenly to something behind Legolas, "Valandil!" he cried. Legolas turned to see the servant appear obediently. "Let us prepare a celebration, for Mirkwood's Prince has returned!"

Legolas turned to face his father, shaking his head. "No, adar, that is unnecessary-"

"Nonsense," smiled the King, clasping a hand on Legolas' shoulder, "The kingdom shall rejoice this eve at the news of your return. Your brothers will be excited to see you again."

Legolas brows furrowed, "Brothers, adar?"

The king frowned, "You must be weary. Both Daeron and Arminas reside safely in their quarters and will be ecstatic once they learn of your arrival." he replied, "Retreat to your chambers and rest a bit and then we may celebrate."

Legolas hesitated briefly, but nodded.

 

 

Aragorn was a composed man, for the most part. It was something he prided himself on. He was not someone easily thrown and it was that which had helped earn him the role of the Fellowship's unofficial leader. (Besides Gandalf, who was, in fact, the official leader.) Some might call it stubbornness, but he preferred to think of it merely as a strong will. There were very few things which Aragorn was unprepared for, at least mentally if not also physically.

But he could not escape the admittance that this was one of those things, and he was ashamed.

Aragorn frowned as he picked up a cloth and wiped the newest trail of blood that slithered out of the prince's nose. Legolas currently lay motionless on his stomach on Aragorn's bedroll, as the ranger did not want to risk further aggravating the wound on his back.

The ranger's heart skipped a beat as the ashen face of Legolas, previously tensed in pain, relaxed considerably and for a moment Aragorn truly feared his friend was dying. Placing two anxiously torpid fingers on his friend's neck, he let out a heavy breath of relief at the steady drumming of life that pulsed beneath his skin.

Aragorn spoke softly so as only Legolas, had he been coherent, would hear. "You do not dare scare me like that again..."

"Strider?" piped a quiet voice from the fire. Aragorn turned to face the curious eyes of the Fellowship's gardner, "Beggin' your pardon, sir, but what exactly is wrong with Mr. Legolas? I did not think his wound was that bad."

Aragorn sighed and shook his head. "I know not what, exactly, Samwise. You are correct, his injury did not bleed nearly enough to cause him to fall due to blood-loss, and it is too soon for infection to set in. The only other reason I could think of is if he'd had some other hidden injury or illness he'd neglected to tell me about." Aragorn paused, looking to the elf as he spoke, "This is not unheard of for him, but he would not do so if he knew it could affect the mission."

Gandalf turned, "I believe I can offer a bit of an explanation, if my hypothesis is correct." the company turned to the wizard in interest, "I know not of what those creatures were, but I believe I could shed some knowledge on the sleep that Legolas has fallen into." he explained, gazing at the somber elf.

Aragorn turned to the wizard with furrowed brows, "Is he not simply unconscious due to the wound?" he inquired, "Surely those were not creatures of enchantment."

Gandalf shook his head, "There is an air about him, something that tells me this is more than an average slumber. I agree that those beasts were of unnatural origin, in fact, perhaps it is nature which is working against us."

Aragorn straightened and silently urged the wizard to continue.

"See that, there?" said Gandalf, pointing to the elf's closed eyes, "How his eyes jerk about under the lid? His mind is not as dormant as his body."

Aragorn's brows furrowed, "Strange. Why is this, Gandalf?"

The wizard sat back, "I am not exactly sure. This is not something I have seen much of, though I know of others who have."

Pippin straightened in optimism, "Can we not simply wake him and ask what is wrong?"

"It would be futile, dear Took." replied the wizard, "Look at him, a tree falling atop him would not cause him to awaken."

Boromir gave the deflated hobbit a light pat on the back in comfort at the altercation of his idea. Pippin shot him a sad half-smile in gratitude.

The ring-bearer frowned solemnly, "And if we cannot awaken him?"

The wizard's face grew grim, "I know naught of what is going on within his mind," Gandalf sighed, "But from a natural point of view, I believe it is reasonable to speculate that there is a venom working feverishly in his veins as he lies dormant. If not that, than simply lack of nourishment."

Merry looked horrified, "So he will starve to death?"

"This is merely hypothesis on my part, but even elves need to eat and drink at some point. I imagine that this poison is meant to kill the prey without too much effort on those creature's part and that they would probably return to feed on the remains at that point. Luckily, we evaded that stage of the process."

Aragorn winced at the use of the word prey to describe his friend beside him, "I'd hardly call this new development lucky." snapped the ranger softly, but the wizard did not retort, knowing his uncharacteristic anger was emitted only out of concern for his friend.

Gandalf sighed, "I am afraid we cannot stay here long, however. We must remember that the quest is our priority."

Sam's face fell, "But what about Mr. Legolas?"

A look of sadness passed over the wizard's face, "Legolas fully knew that his life may have been forfeit had he accompanied us on the quest. He understood the sacrifices that he may have had to make and that he was fighting for something greater than himself."

Aragorn spoke edgily, "You speak of him as if he has already passed."

Gandalf sighed, "You know that was not my meaning, son of Arathorn. I have known Legolas for many years and seeing him in this state is painful to myself as well. I ask only of you to remember our priority. It is what he would have wanted." he continued at Aragorn's sharp glare, "Had he been coherent."

The ranger looked over the motionless elf that lay beside him. His ashen face would have caused Aragorn to believe him dead had it not been for the slight rise and fall of his chest. He sighed, "We can spare a day or so, we are ahead of scheduale anyway. Perhaps he will have recovered somewhat by then."

Gandalf sighed sadly, "Aragorn-"

"It would be contradictory to our cause if we let him die without giving him a chance." inturrupted the ranger in determination.

The Wizard sighed, then nodded solemnly. "Very well. I imagine we could remain here for no more than three nights, as this is not an area often crossed." he said, "After that, however, I'm afraid we must depart for the sake of the quest. Let us hope his Elvish healing skills are quickly being put to work."

The company silently accepted the decision, "So what do we do in the meantime?" inquired Pippin.

Gandalf turned, "We wait."


End file.
